The Pregnancy Potion
by The Lionhearted Phoenix
Summary: When Ginny takes the wrong potion and gets pregnant, she and Harry are in for a crazy ride! Twoshot (chapter two up!), canon compliant. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pregnancy Potion**

Ginny groaned as she yanked yet another tissue out of the box on the bedside table, blowing her nose into it loudly. Wizards could travel back in time and conjure things out of thin air, but they still hadn't found a cure for the flu? She buried her face in her pillow, sniffling miserably.

Harry was at work and she, Ginny, was home sick, and was absolutely bored out of her mind, although not for lack of trying. She had fully intended to attend Quidditch practise, but the moment Gwenog saw her wiping her runny nose, she grabbed Ginny by the arm and frog-marched her out of the stadium, declaring as she deposited Ginny by the Flooing fireplace, "Oh, no you don't! I won't have you going and getting the rest of the team sick, Weasley! We've got a game in one week and you will NOT sabotage it!"

After that, Ginny had had no choice but to Floo home, and then she dragged herself _all the way_ to her bed, cursing Gwenog under her breath and even going as far as to blame poor little Victoire, who had passed on her flu to her aunt two days ago. And now here Ginny was, feeling sorry for herself as she sent her used tissue soaring straight into the rubbish bin on the other side of the room. _See, _she thought snootily, _I can still score even when I'm sick. _As if her body had realised that she had gone too long without coughing, it decided at that moment to dust the furniture in her lungs, and she let out a spectacularly loud, hacking cough.

"Alright, that's it," Ginny said to herself decidedly. "I won't let this thing get the best of me. I'll just take some Pepper-up and go back to practise. Never mind that I'm talking to myself, which I will consider a symptom of the flu and nothing else."

She sat up determinedly, then flopped back down immediately as she was overcome with a sudden sensation of vertigo. She pressed her face against her pillow, groaning. Once the room had stopped moving, which took a few minutes, she carefully sat back up, rubbing her face, which now had soft ridges pressed into it from lying on a textured surface. Looking down in curiosity at a corner of cloth peeking out from below Harry's pillow, she lifted the pillow and extracted a pair of lacy black panties from beneath it. Grinning at the memory of a particularly spectacular night (the last one she would probably have until this flu went away), she slid her legs out of bed and got up again, more carefully this time.

Yawning widely, she trudged downstairs and into the kitchen, where she knelt in front of the potions cabinet and shoved her arm in up to the shoulder in order to reach the very back, where the potions with names beginning with "P" would be, per Harry's neurotic organisational system. "Why the man has to organise everything from the fridge to his underwear, I may never know," Ginny muttered to herself, groping in the back of the cabinet and triumphantly pulling out a long, slender bottle.

The cork was sealed tightly to the bottle, as Harry believed that potions expired more quickly if they weren't sealed in between uses. "Of course it's sealed," Ginny grumbled. "Why would life be any easier?" She reached for her wand before she remembered that she was wearing a dressing gown that had no pockets, and that her wand was sitting comfortably on her nightstand. She let out a little grunt of frustration and settled herself in butterfly position on the floor, positioning the bottle between her feet and holding the cork with both hands. She yanked – hard – and the cork came flying out of the bottle, out of her grasp, and straight into her right eye.

She let out a shriek of pain that mingled with various swear words, and clutched both hands to her streaming eye. "Stupid – effing – cork – I'm going – to – KILL – Harry – Potter – oww!" she managed in between gasps of pain. With her right eye swelling shut, she grabbed the bottle, took two swigs, shoved the cork back in (sealing be damned), tossed it into the cabinet, and stormed back upstairs, slamming the door to the bedroom. Still muttering darkly, she threw herself onto the bed, hoping a nice nap would help her awful day.

No such luck, of course, for as soon as Ginny lay down she began to feel a rolling sensation in her stomach. Waves of nausea washed over her and, muffling her scream of exasperation in her pillow, she curled into a ball, willing the queasiness to go away. Just as she was about to drift off, she felt a tug in her gut and rolled over just in time to throw up all over Harry's side of the bed. Groaning, she stumbled to the bathroom and coughed more bile into the toilet. "Just what I need," she groused, her shoulders heaving. "I can't even take medicine without getting sicker. This whole bloody day is just going wrong. And I'm _still_ talking to myself!" she added in irritation. She flushed the toilet and rinsed out her mouth several times before deciding that no amount of rinsing would rid her mouth of the awful taste of vomit. She took a deep lungful of fresh air before opening the bathroom door and dashing across the room to the nightstand, where she snatched up her wand and gave it a complicated little wave to clean the bed.

Instead of soap and bubbles erupting from the end of the wand, however, the wand squeaked, shuddered, and morphed into a rubber mouse that chittered happily. "I WILL KILL GEORGE!" Ginny shouted.

"I think that's a bit extreme, don't you?"

"Merlin's beard, now I'm hearing answers, too," Ginny moaned, putting her hand on her forehead. "I must really be going insane."

Arms snaked around her waist and pulled her in tight so that her back collided with someone's chest. "You're already insane, darling, but that's why I love you," a voice murmured in her ear.

"Harry!" Ginny said delightedly, turning in his arms and sliding her own around his waist. "I didn't hear you come home."

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and went to hang up his coat. "Why exactly were you cursing George?" he asked.

"He must have swapped my wand for one of his fake ones at the last family dinner," said Ginny ruefully, tossing the rubber mouse at him.

He laughed and caught it. "All in good fun, I'm – what happened to your eye?" he said suddenly, taken aback.

"Oh, I nearly forgot about that," Ginny grumbled. "It's been such an awful day, you've no idea," she sighed.

"Well, feel free to tell me all about – eurgh!"

He had sat down on his side of the bed, which, Ginny had inadvertently forgotten to mention, was covered in vomit.

"I was _trying_ to clean that up," Ginny said tetchily, crossing her arms.

"Well, you haven't done a very good job," said Harry mockingly, making no attempt to mask his look of disgust as he gingerly got up from the bed. With a wave of his wand, he vanished the mess and cleaned his clothes, somehow leaving the room smelling like fresh roses (which Ginny, who had never been very good with household spells, could not understand in the slightest). "Anyway," he said, sitting back down. "I'm guessing the, er, vomit story will be explained in the answer to the question, 'How was your day?'"

"I'm not sure you want to know," said Ginny grouchily. "It hasn't been a very fun one."

"Eh, fun days are overrated," said Harry, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Also, how exactly did you get a black eye?"

"It's black?!" Ginny shrieked, dashing into the closet to examine it in the mirror. She stared at her reflection with one eye, the other swollen and ringed with purple bruises. "Oh no," she moaned. "How am I supposed to go out like this?" She whirled on Harry. "This is all _your_ fault!" she snapped.

"_My_ fault?" Harry repeated, flabbergasted. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"You and your stupid superstitions – I've _told_ you a billion times that potions do _not_ expire if you don't seal them, but do you listen? _Nooo!_ Mr 'I'm Harry-effing-Boy-Who-Knows-Everything-Potter!'"

"I don't recall ever calling myself that," Harry said offhandedly.

"Don't you start with me," said Ginny huffily. "If you hadn't sealed the damn Pepper-up Potion, I wouldn't have had to pull the cork out, and I wouldn't have a black eye now!"

Harry stared at her in confusion. "But Gin," he said, "I _didn't_ seal the Pepper-up."

"Of course you did!" Ginny scoffed. "It was sealed when I pulled it out of the cabinet, wasn't it?"

"Ginny, I'm telling you, it's not sealed," said Harry steadily. "I wouldn't seal the Pepper-up because it's a basic household potion, which tend to last longer unsealed, since they're specifically engineered to withstand household conditions."

"You sound like Hermione," Ginny grumbled. "But wait..." she added, furrowing her brow. "If you didn't seal the Pepper-up...and I drank from a sealed bottle..." She stared at him. "Then...what did I drink?"

They looked at each other, and then they both dashed out of the room and down the stairs, barreling into the kitchen and throwing open the potions cabinet.

"Ginny," Harry moaned, regarding the haphazard mess inside. "You messed up my system!"

"Harry, this really isn't the time!" Ginny snapped. She reached inside and pulled out the same, long-necked bottle, turning it so the label faced her. She felt her face slowly drain of color as she stared at the text on the label.

"What?" Harry said anxiously. "What is it?"

Wordlessly, she handed it over to him, sinking into a chair and burying her face in her hands.

"Gin, this is in German," Harry reminded her.

"I know," she said, her voice muffled by her hands. "The Healers gave it to me when...when we were going to start trying...before I decided I wanted to continue Quidditch..."

There was an uneasy silence, and then Harry broke it. "Ginny, do you mean this is a...a pregnancy potion?"

There was another silence before Ginny reluctantly answered. "Yes," she said miserably. "And what's even worse is that the Healers said it should only be used for drastic purposes."

"What does that mean?" Harry said, squinting at the bottle as if it would help him decipher the foreign language.

"I didn't think to ask," said Ginny wearily. "Oh, what are we going to do, Harry?" she moaned.

"Don't panic," he said soothingly. "We'll just make an appointment with the Healers and find out what exactly this potion does. Then we can figure out what to do."

"Alright," Ginny said unenthusiastically. She looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, batting her eyelashes. "You don't think we could get dinner from the Leaky Cauldron tonight, do you?" she said hopefully.

He laughed, pulling her out of her chair and sweeping her into a hug. "Anything, love," he said, kissing the top of her head.

Harry agreed to order the food while Ginny went upstairs to take a nice, hot shower, hoping it might relieve some of her misery. When she got out, feeling thoroughly refreshed, though not altogether relaxed, she found the hot food waiting for her at the table, its smell wafting towards her in heavily aromatic waves. Suddenly, however, the food didn't seem so appetizing – in fact, it seemed utterly revolting, and Ginny, clamping a hand to her mouth, dashed out of the kitchen and into the hallway bathroom, skidding to a halt in front of the toilet just as her lunch made its grand reappearance.

She could hear Harry calling after her, but as she had her head in the toilet and was currently spewing the contents of her stomach into it, it was rather difficult for her to respond, and she was only aware that he had entered the bathroom when she had stopped throwing up and he handed her a wet towel to wipe her mouth with. "Thanks," she said grumpily.

"Is this the flu or the, erm...potion?" Harry asked timidly.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry. It's the flu. Even I know enough about pregnancy to know that symptoms don't show up this early." She flushed the toilet. "And incidentally," she added, crossing to the sink and splashing her face with water, "you may want to get used to the word 'pregnancy'. After all, you're going to be telling my brothers you knocked me up." Enjoying the horrified look on Harry's face, Ginny washed out her mouth and headed back towards the kitchen.

"B-but," Harry stammered, following her hurriedly, "we don't even know if you're – that is to say, if we're going to – okay, you know what I mean!" Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "But what I mean is, what if the potion doesn't even work until _after_ we've had sex?"

"Not sure you should be actively working against your own interests here, Potter," Ginny said with a sly grin, "but as you've mentioned it, I think a night or two without sex would probably be safest, all things considered."

"Damn it," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Don't feel too hard on yourself, darling," said Ginny cheerily. "_Literally_," she added with a wink, and he scowled at her, storming past her and into the kitchen.

Half an hour later, and miraculously without any more nausea, Ginny collected the dishes and dumped them into the sink, using Harry's wand to charm them to wash themselves. "I really have got to find my wand," she reminded Harry as she tossed his own back to him.

He caught it and raised it in the air. _"Accio Ginny's wand!"_ he said. They both looked around, waiting for her wand to come racing out of some nook or cranny, but nothing happened. "We'll just have to ask George about it when we see him next," Harry said, shrugging.

Ginny scowled. "That may be difficult considering the next time I see him he will have giant bogeys flying out of his nose," she said darkly, and Harry chuckled.

"And _that _may be difficult considering you don't have a wand," he pointed out. She let out an irritated huff. "Come on, then," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "It's late and we're going to have a long day tomorrow if we have to go see the Healers."

"Oh, don't remind me," Ginny moaned, but she allowed him to steer her upstairs and deposit her in front of the closet so she could change. As he leaned in for a kiss, his hands snuck upwards and into her shirt, and she slapped them away with a grin. "I don't think so, Potter," she laughed, and he rolled his eyes and took his hands away reluctantly. She looked down to pull her top straight, and as she did, she noticed that her stomach was not as flat as it had been that morning. "Look at this!" she said, gesturing to her abdomen. "One day without Quidditch and I'm already out of shape!"

He pulled her against him. "You're beautiful, and you don't need me to tell you that," he reminded her.

"I know," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "But it's always nice to hear it." She grinned up at him and pressed her lips against his, and he responded with such enthusiasm that she had to break away, smacking at him again. Keeping an eye on him, she gathered her nightgown and headed into the closet, but scarcely had she closed the door than she slammed it open again.

"Harry," she cried in panic, "Quidditch! Oh, Gwenog is going to _kill_ me!"

"Relax, Ginny," Harry said calmly. "We don't even know if you're – I mean, we'll go and see the Healers tomorrow and find out if you actually are – well, you know," he finished sheepishly.

She sighed exasperatedly and slunk back into the closet, closing the door behind her. After changing, she tossed her clothes into the laundry bag and slid into bed as Harry turned out the lights. "Goodnight," she said, and she heard him murmur a reply as his lips brushed her forehead. Within moments they were both asleep.

She was the first to wake the next morning and kept her eyes resolutely closed, as if by doing so she would somehow be able to fall back asleep. Once she had accepted that no more sleep was to be had, she sighed and snuggled closer to Harry – or tried to, finding something in between her body and his. She opened her eyes blearily, rubbing crud out of them as the bed came into focus. Something the size of a small melon was in between her and Harry, and it was skin colored, and seemed to have...a navel?

She sat bolt upright and let out a strangled scream, scrambling backward as if she could somehow escape the thing. Harry shot out of bed in an instant, shoved his glasses onto his face, and began brandishing his wand violently at the nonexistent intruders. "STUPEF-! Fuh...erm..." He looked around wildly and lowered his wand as he realised that there was no one else in the room.

"What the hell, Ginny?" he grumbled irritably, tossing his wand back on the bedside table. "I thought someone was trying to...kidnap...you...whoa." His eyes had come to rest on the thing that Ginny had realised was in fact her belly, which had somehow expanded overnight and swollen so rapidly that it had ripped through the soft material of her gown.

"Bloody hell," she said faintly.

"Bloody hell," Harry echoed.

She stared at him, openmouthed. "How did this –" She broke off with a gasp as _something_ collided with the inside of her belly. "Bloody hell!" she shrieked again.

"What? What is it?" Harry yelped anxiously.

"I think..." She put her hands to her belly and something responded with such force that her hands actually bounced off of it. "Merlin's pants," she breathed.

"Would you _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?" Harry cried.

"The potion," Ginny whispered. "I don't think...it was a normal potion. Somehow it accelerated the whole process."

He gaped at her. "Do you mean to say that _that_ –" He made a series of gestures towards her belly – "is our _kid?_"

"I think so," Ginny said weakly.

He gulped. "Bloody hell."

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, she wasn't quite sure what, when another strong jolt slammed into her belly. "Merlin's pants!" she shrieked.

"What? What?!" Harry shouted, panicking. She took his hand and put it on her belly, feeling a lurch within seconds. Harry yelped and yanked his hand back. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, breathing heavily.

"I think it's kicking," Ginny said breathlessly.

"Bloody hell," Harry gulped again. He let out a nervous giggle. "There's...there's a person in there, Gin...ha-ha..." And then, without warning, he keeled over and collapsed onto the floor.

"Damn it, Harry!" Ginny cried exasperatedly. She hurried around the bed, nearly tripping over her feet, which she could no longer see, and snatched up his wand. "Honestly, he can stare down Death countless times but can't handle the fact that the parasite I'm currently hosting is kicking me," she muttered to herself. _"Ennervate!"_

He gave a great gasp and sat bolt upright, his eyes flying open and his head nearly colliding with her protruding belly. "Bloody hell," he said again, staring slightly cross-eyed at her belly.

She chucked his wand at him and he ducked, the wand rolling across the floor and vanishing under the nightstand.

"We've got to get you to a Healer," he said, struggling to stand.

"No, no we can't!" Ginny cried, shaking her head violently. "Have you any idea what the _press_ will say? It'll be all over the _Prophet_! We'll never get another day of rest!"

"Really, Gin?" Harry said exasperatedly, rubbing the back of his neck. "The _press_ is what you're worried about right now? There is a _kid_ –" he gestured wildly at her belly again – "in there! _Our _kid! What the hell are we going to do?"

"I don't know!" Ginny cried. "I'm not ready to be a _mum_," she gasped suddenly. "I'm barely even an adult!"

"Merlin's pants, I'm going to be a dad," Harry said faintly.

"Don't pass out on me again," Ginny warned him. "I won't be kind enough to revive you this time."

He gulped and sat shakily on the bed. "Press be damned, you need a Healer now," he said fervently.

"Can't you just call one to the house, then?" Ginny pleaded. "I don't want people to see this. Everyone will flip out."

"Fine, just –" He put his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her towards the bed. "Just sit down and relax, alright?"

"Alright," she agreed, rolling her eyes slightly at his overprotectiveness, but secretly thinking that he would be a wonderful father. "Merlin's beard, we're going to be parents," she laughed, fear twisting in her gut.

"Holy hippogriffs, I know," Harry said, dumbfounded. "Us, parents!" He kissed her cheek and went to the fireplace in their room, conjuring a fire as he examined the powder in the bowl they kept on the mantelpiece. Shrugging, he tossed the little remaining Floo powder into the grate. He stuck his head into the now emerald-green fire and shouted, "St Mungo's!"

He appeared to be listening for a few moments, then pulled his head out again. "They've put me on hold," he said grudgingly.

"Did you tell them it was urgent?" Ginny asked, with the air of someone asking a child what two and two was.

He stared at her blankly. "Er...should I have?" he asked nervously.

"Harry!" she cried, exasperated. "Of course you should have! This is _not_ normal, under any circumstances!"

"Well, that doesn't mean it's urgent!" he spluttered.

She groaned. "Just forget it. Besides, how long can this possibly take?"

"Erm, actually," Harry said timidly, and he withered under her glare, "they did mention that, erm, several manticores escaped from a paddock nearby...tons of injuries...you know how it is," he added meekly.

She let out an irritated sigh. "Fine. Fine!" she said, heaving herself off the bed. "I'm going to get the potion up here and try to figure it out for myself."

"Neither of us know German," Harry reminded her.

"I know," she snapped. "But it's better than doing nothing." She made her way to the door, making a conscious effort not to waddle, but apparently failing miserably, as far as she could tell from Harry's stifled snickers. She scowled and carefully went down the stairs, gripping the banister so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It was odd, suddenly having so much extra weight and being off balance, she reflected as she shoved the kitchen door open and knelt with difficulty in front of the potions cabinet. In the time it had taken her to get from the bedroom to the kitchen, her belly seemed to have grown even larger. She shook her head to clear it and pulled out the pregnancy potion, and then, regretting her choice to kneel, gripped the counter and heaved herself up, stumbling slightly as she found her footing.

When she got back upstairs, Harry was sitting in a chair and staring wide-eyed into the fireplace, as if he could somehow will it with his mind to suck a Healer in. "A watched cauldron never boils," she reminded him, plopping herself down on the bed with a relieved sigh.

He sighed and got up, rubbing his eyes. "I know," he grumbled. He blinked at her suddenly. "Have you gotten bigger since five minutes ago?" he asked, rubbing his eyes harder.

She scowled. "If we ever actually plan to have kids after this," she told him, "never ask me that again."

"Sorry," he said meekly, and she nodded at his wisdom.

"Now, then," she said, turning the bottle in between her hands. "There must be something on here to help us." She squinted at it, trying to read the fine print. "Look, there's a number here – thank Merlin math is the same in all languages –" She peered closely at it. "Eighteen," she read aloud.

They looked at each other. "You don't think it means..." Harry began.

"Eighteen hours?" Ginny finished. She glanced down at her belly, which, although she would never admit it to Harry, did look slightly bigger. "It would make sense."

"When did you take it, do you think?" Harry asked, taking the bottle from her and bringing it so close to his eyes that Ginny privately wondered if he needed new glasses.

"Well, Quidditch practise was at three," she said, casting her mind back, "which means I must have taken it around half past."

Harry glanced at the clock, which read a quarter to eight. "That means we've got about two hours, assuming the baby will be born after the eighteen hours."

"Two hours," Ginny repeated. "We'll be parents in two hours!" she said, shocked. Then she gasped suddenly. "Harry, what are we going to tell my mum?"

He went a very pasty colour. "Well, erm...we could...okay, Ginny, I swear I just saw your stomach grow!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If this is your way of changing the subject..."

"I'm not kidding," he said, and something in his tone made her look down.

He wasn't lying – her belly _had_ grown, her torn nightgown draping around it like curtains. It was now roughly the size of a beach ball, and as she watched, it stretched a bit more. "Merlin's beard," she said faintly. "Alright," she said, trying to maintain her control as she gripped the bedpost to heave herself off the bed. "It's not a big deal. I'll just –"

But at that moment she felt a slight popping sensation and let out a strangled gasp, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her hand around the bedpost.

"Ginny?" Harry was at her side in an instant. "Ginny, what is it?"

She let out a small "Oh!" and looked down, where a puddle was slowly forming around her feet. Then, suddenly, a jarring force collided with her and her knees gave way as she doubled in on herself, clutching her belly.

"Ginny!" Harry caught her before her knees hit the ground and set her gently on the bed.

"Harry," she panted, speaking through clenched teeth. "I don't think we have two hours."

He stared at her, thunderstruck. "You don't mean...now?"

"Now," she confirmed, shifting her body as she winced in pain.

He went very pale. "Alright, I'll just Floo St Mungos, and..." He trailed off as he turned around, realising that the fire had died out. "They must have taken us off hold," he said worriedly.

Another strong wave of pain crashed into Ginny, and she let out a cry as she squeezed her eyes shut against it.

"Okay, don't panic!" said Harry in a panicked voice. "I'll just send them a Patronus –" He looked around wildly for his wand. "My wand! Where's my wand?" He looked at Ginny as if she would know, but she was in the throes of another contraction and could only shake her head to say she had no idea.

"Erm, okay, er, _Accio wand!"_

"You'd need a wand for that, darling!" Ginny nearly shouted at him.

"Right! I knew that!" Harry said frantically. "Okay, just give me yours and I'll –"

"Harry," Ginny said through gritted teeth, _"I do not have my wand!"_

Harry let out a yell of frustration. "I will KILL George Weasley!" he shouted. He began to pace. "So neither of us have wands, no way to contact the hospital, and no way to get you _to_ the hospital. Now what?!"

"Floo my mum," Ginny gasped. "She'll know what to do."

"Okay, there's a plan," said Harry, evidently more reassured. "I'll just Floo your mum and...er..." He had thrust his hand into the Floo powder bowl and pulled it out empty.

"Don't tell me," Ginny began, and Harry turned the bowl upside down over his hand, as if he were hoping that some few remnants of Floo powder were still inside the bowl. "No," Ginny moaned. _"Please_ tell me there's more in the kitchen?"

"Erm..."

_"None?"_ Ginny cried. "None at all?"

"I meant to go to Diagon Alley this weekend," Harry said sheepishly.

"Great!" Ginny nearly screamed. "Just bloody great! Really bloody fan –" She broke off with a cry of pain as another contraction wracked her body. "Ohhh," she gasped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, going into damage-control mode, the way she did when she was on the Quidditch pitch, when the other team was in the lead and there were no options. "We'll just have to do this ourselves."

"Ourselves?" Harry squeaked.

She glared at him. "Check and see how much I've dilated."

"How much you've _what?"_

She sighed. "Just look between my legs, Harry."

"Your _what?"_

"JUST DO IT!"

He scrambled away from the fireplace and lifted the covers, sticking his head under them and pulling her knickers down. "Bloody hell!" she heard him exclaim.

"What?" Ginny yelped. "What is it?"

He emerged from under the covers, looking slightly green. "Nothing, it's just...it's rather stretched out down there."

She kicked him in the head, and he let out a yelp of pain. "Not the best time, Potter!" she shouted.

"Ouch, alright, sorry!" Harry apologised quickly as he ducked back under the covers. "Okay, I think there's about six centimetres of space there."

"Six?! _Only?!_"

"Well...yeah."

She sighed. "Alright, you'd better sit down. This may take – ah!" she yelped as another contraction gripped her. "A while..."

She spent the next hour in excruciating pain, with Harry either pacing or asking her if he could get her anything. Finally, she shouted at him so badly that he gulped and sat down next to her, not saying a word for the next fifteen minutes, which she was greatly appreciative of, if slightly guilty.

"Sorry," she said eventually.

He sighed in relief. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I was actually beginning to think you'd never want to speak to me again."

"In a way, it's nice that you're so worried about this," Ginny said, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion. "I just mean, I'm sure you'll be a great father."

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "Gin," he murmured, stroking her hair, "what are we going to do?"

"I've no idea," she whispered back. "We're not ready for this, Harry."

"But –"

"I know," she said, avoiding his eyes. "When we decided to try, I thought we were. But then I started thinking about how young I was and – and I know I said I didn't want to try then because of Quidditch, but I also just wanted to live more of my life with you before I lived it with a baby, too." She took a shuddering breath and screwed up her face in pain as a contraction hit. "I'm sorry," she went on, gritting her teeth against the pain. "I should have told you the truth."

"It's alright," said Harry, surprising her. "To be honest, I would have wanted a little more time with you, too." She looked up at him, and he hugged her with one arm, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Well, look at us now," Ginny said with a wry laugh. "Irony really did bite us in the arse this time, didn't it?" Harry laughed, and she went on. "We don't have to keep it, you know," she said. "If you really wanted to, we could give it up for adoption."

"I don't think I could do that," Harry said. "I'm pretty sure I love it already."

Ginny scoffed. "It's been about an hour since we even found out and you've already said 'I love you'? Honestly, it took you nearly six years to say it to me!"

Harry laughed lightly. "Yes, well, back then I was –"

"Shit!" Ginny said suddenly, and Harry jumped in alarm.

"Well, I wasn't _shit_, exactly, but I suppose all teenage boys are –"

"Harry, shut up for a minute and go and check me!" Ginny cried, breathing heavily as the strange feeling she had felt ebbed away.

"What's going on?" Harry said, leaping out of the bed and sticking his head back under the covers. "Bloody hell!" she heard him shout again, and she was pleased to hear a resounding thud as she kicked his head again.

"Just tell me what you see!" she cried.

He emerged, swallowing hard. "Gin, there's a head down there!" he cried.

"Oh, no," she moaned. "No, it's too soon!" She glanced at the clock, which read nine o'clock. Suddenly, another contraction slammed into her, and this time, she felt a terrifying pressure around her hips. "Shit," she breathed again.

"Ginny, what can I do?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Ohhh," she moaned, doubling over in pain. "Go and get some old towels and warm water. Hurry!"

He raced out of the room and she felt the pain subsiding, only for it to hit again unexpectedly a minute later, forcing a scream out of her. Harry dashed back in, holding three towels and a large bowl of warm water.

"What's happening? Have I missed it?" he yelled frantically, slopping warm water everywhere.

"Just put the stuff down and get under the covers," Ginny panted.

"Okay," said Harry, laying the towels on the bed and placing the bowl on the ground. Ginny felt the pressure forming around her hips again and let out a moan of pain. Suddenly, she felt the bed depress on one side and cracked an eye open to see Harry sitting beside her, pulling the blankets over himself.

"Not here, you prat!" she shouted, smacking him so hard he tumbled off the bed and crashed into the nightstand. "I meant down _there!"_

"Damn it, Ginny, that hurt!" Harry cried, clutching his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did it?" Ginny said sarcastically. "I can't possibly imagine how you feel right now!"

He muttered something under his breath and laid his head gingerly on the floor with a grimace of pain. Suddenly, she heard him give a cry of jubilation, and he emerged a moment later with something gripped in his fist. "Ginny, I've found my wand!"

"Bloody brilliant!" Ginny shouted. "Now will you _please_ get over there and get ready?"

"Ready – ready for what, exactly?" Harry asked nervously.

"To catch the baby, and if you so much as _sway_ right now, Harry Potter, I will knock you out myself!"

He gulped. "Got it!" he said, hurrying to the foot of the bed.

"Okay," said Ginny, feeling another contraction beginning to build. "Now, I need you to get the towels and – ohhh –" The pressure was there again, stronger than ever, and this time she obeyed it.

"Gin, it's coming out!"

"I know!" she shouted at him. "I'm actually doing the work here!"

"Right! Sorry!"

She stopped pushing, panting. "Right, now when its head is out you'll need to turn it to the side," she told Harry.

"What? Why?" he asked, poking his head out of the covers.

"Just do it!" Ginny cried as the force of another contraction hit her.

"Blimey, Ginny – it's got black hair!" she heard him cry.

"Fantastic!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Now, when it's out, you'll need to cut the cord and tie it, then use the warm water to clean it off."

"Wait – no, say that again slowly? I may need to write this down..."

She moaned as another contraction hit, and pushed again.

"Gin, you should see its little hands! Oh, they're so beautiful..." Harry sighed.

"Can you be sentimental later?" Ginny shouted at him.

"Sorry!"

She took a deep breath and pushed one last time, feeling something slip out of her just as a loud, strangled wail hit the air.

"Oh my –" she whispered, her heart thudding in her chest.

"Ginny!" Harry yelped, his head shooting out from under the covers. "It's a boy! Look, you can see his little –"

"Merlin's beard," Ginny said breathlessly. "Oh, hurry and cut the cord, will you? I want to see it - him."

_"Diffindo,"_ Harry muttered, and moments later he was bundling their child up and handing him to Ginny. She took one look at her baby's beautiful face, which he screwed up as he wailed, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Merlin's pants, he's just - he's perfect," she gasped. The baby was still wailing deafeningly, and she cradled him close to her, rocking him gently. "Oh, darling...oh..." she breathed.

"He looks so much like..." Harry trailed off, ducking his head.

"Like?" Ginny prompted him.

"Well, like my dad," said Harry apologetically.

Ginny looked down at the baby in her arms, who had stopped crying and was peering up at her with the blue eyes of a newborn – eyes with a slight cast to them that indicated they would likely be the color of her own eyes, a warm chocolate brown. His hair was black, as Harry had said, and she knew that when it grew out it would stick up all over the place just like Harry's.

"James," she said softly. "I like that. James."

Harry looked up. "You mean it?"

"I think it's perfect for him," Ginny said with a watery smile. "James..." she said again, savoring the sound of it. "James Sirius."

Harry chuckled. "Are you sure? With a name like that, he'll have a great excuse to be a troublemaker."

"I know," said Ginny, holding the baby close to her. "Just like his father." And she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips.

Suddenly, a fourth voice echoed throughout the room. "St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, how may I assist you?"

Harry stormed over to the fireplace, which had emerald green flames flickering in it again, and in which the head of a young Healer was calmly floating. "You people are absolutely no help!" he shouted at her, and Ginny heard a slight pop as the witch evidently pulled her head out of the fire in fear.

He whirled back around, huffing irritably. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, staring at the clock. "Gin, it's 9:35!" he said.

"So?"

"I forgot to check the time he was born, but it must have been 9:30," he said. "Exactly eighteen hours."

"Huh," Ginny said thoughtfully. "So _that's_ what that meant."

"Well, at least now we know for next time," Harry said, and Ginny let out a short laugh.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I am _not _doing this again," she said, shaking her head. "Next time we want a kid, we will do it the _normal_ way."

"I think eighteen hours is a lot less work than nine months, don't you?" Harry asked, sitting back down beside her.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but it's a hell of a lot more stress," she said with a smile.

James coughed and blinked up at his parents, who both smiled down at him. "You know what's funny?" Ginny said, looking up at Harry.

"Hmm?"

She grinned. "I don't think I have the flu anymore."

He let out a bark of laughter and pulled her in against him as James yawned and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**By popular demand, part two!**

* * *

**The Pregnancy Potion, Part 2**

The room was in complete disarray, the bedsheets tangled and crumpled, the fireplace surrounded by soot, wrinkled towels by the foot of the bed.

And sitting happily in the middle of it all, propped up by several pillows, was Ginny Potter with her newborn son.

He was asleep at the moment, and Harry sat beside them, stroking his son's hair. "I still can't believe we have a son," he said, rather breathlessly.

"Imagine if I had taken the Pepper-up instead," said Ginny with a grin.

Harry laughed. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. Even if you do have a black eye now," he said, kissing it lightly.

Ginny groaned. "Isn't it any better yet? Not even a bit?"

"Well," said Harry, peering closely at it, "it does look a bit better, I suppose. Actually – well, maybe – no, not really," he finished sheepishly, and Ginny sighed. "You know, I think your mum left a salve here after that Quaffle hit you in the eye –"

"For the last time, I wasn't looking," said Ginny testily.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're a chaser. Isn't that your job? To _look_ for the Quaffle?"

"Don't get smart with me, Potter," Ginny warned him, narrowing her one good eye. "I did just give birth to your son, you know."

He grinned. "Yeah, I know. I'll be back in a minute." He kissed her cheek and James's forehead, the latter stirring sleepily, and then headed down to the kitchen. He opened the medicine cabinet and stuck his head inside. "Did I file it under 'black eye' or 'salve'?" he wondered aloud.

"Knowing you, probably 'creams and balms for mild to moderate bruises' or something mental like that," said a voice behind him.

Harry jumped, his head smacking the top of the cabinet. He let out a shout of pain and tumbled out of the cabinet, clutching his head, his eyes streaming.

He heard a laugh from somewhere above him, and someone yanked him upright by the arm. "Sorry, mate, didn't mean to give you a fright," said the voice, and Harry blinked as familiar blue eyes and a crop of bright red hair came into focus.

"Yeah, maybe announce yourself next time," said Harry grudgingly, touching his head gingerly.

"Fine," said Ron, with a grin. "Next time I'll call out, 'Ron Weasley, brother of Ginny Potter, husband of Hermione Weasley, and fantastically good-looking Auror, has arrived. May he please enter your dingy home?'"

"'Fantastically good-looking Auror'?" Harry repeated, rubbing his head.

"Don't try to deny it, I know I look fabulous," said Ron, sweeping his hair back in what Harry thought was a very good impression of Gilderoy Lockhart. He surveyed Harry, who was still rubbing his head and wincing. "You don't have a black eye," he observed.

"Well spotted," said Harry, rolling his perfectly good eyes. "Shall we get you an Order of Merlin for such a profound statement?"

Ron scowled. "I _meant_, you don't have a black eye, so why are you looking for a black-eye-reversing salve? That is what you were looking for, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "before you came in and nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I said sorry, didn't I?" said Ron, not sounding very sorry at all as he grinned down at Harry. "Well, who's the salve for, then? You didn't hit my sister did you?" he added, narrowing his eyes.

"No!" said Harry hastily. "No, she did it to herself. By accident."

"Right," said Ron, not looking thoroughly convinced. "Where is she, by the way? I only came by to drop off this book for her."

He held up a rather thick book with a picture on the front of a sad-looking elf, holding a banner with the words, _Helping Hands: How House-elves Have Heavier Hindrances Than We Should Hope. By Haley Holpen._

"Hermione's been trying to get everyone to read it so we're all 'thoroughly educated on the utter atrocities of house-elf maltreatment,' in her words," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"Not trying to get 'spew' going _again_, is she?" said Harry with an exasperated sigh. "You'd think after _Kingsley_ tried to talk her out of it –"

"Yeah, well, she's not one to give up," said Ron with a hint of pride in his voice. "So, where's Ginny, then?"

"Upst – nowhere!" said Harry, changing his answer mid-word as he realised that Ron wouldn't exactly react positively to the fact that his sister had had a baby, especially considering he hadn't had the proper nine months to acquaint himself with the idea. "I mean, Quidditch," he said quickly. "She's at Quidditch."

Ron raised an eyebrow, and Harry cringed inwardly. "She doesn't have Quidditch on Saturdays," he reminded Harry.

"That's right," said Harry nervously, mentally smacking himself. "Er, I meant to say, she's _practising_ Quidditch at – at the Burrow."

"Really?" said Ron in mock thoughtfulness. "Because, you know, I was just at the Burrow and she wasn't there. How odd."

The two stared at each other, Harry gulped nervously, and then Ron bolted out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him just in time for Harry to crash into it.

"Ron! NO!" Harry shouted, fumbling for the doorknob. He succeeded in getting the door open and raced after Ron, who, with his much longer legs, had already reached the top of the stairs.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER?" he roared, looking livid.

"Nothing! Just don't go into –"

It was too late. Ron slammed open the door to Harry and Ginny's bedroom just as Harry caught up and crashed into Ron from behind, knocking them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"Did you get the salve?" asked Ginny calmly from the bed.

"Er," said Harry, digging his knee into Ron's back to keep him from straightening up, "I didn't exactly get the chance to –"

Ron rolled over and pinned Harry to the ground. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" he shouted.

"I haven't done anything!" Harry yelped, wincing as Ron slammed his already sore head into the ground. "Let me up!"

"Not until you –"

A wail cut him off and they both sat up, Ron goggling at Ginny and Harry looking slightly guilty. Ginny attempted to soothe James, who, it appeared, had woken up from the noise and was now bawling loudly. She shot them both a glare.

"Look what you've done now!" she shouted at them over James's cries, and Harry cowered a bit. "You've woken him up, and I've only just –"

"What the hell," Ron interrupted, breathing heavily, "is _that?"_ He pointed wildly at James, who was beginning to calm down as his mother rocked him side to side.

She rolled her eyes. "It's a _baby,_ Ron," she said with an exasperated sigh. "You ought to know, considering you've got about a half-dozen other nieces and nephews and your wife's had baby fever for over three months now."

"Yes, but – how did – what did – when did –?"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" another voice bellowed from downstairs. "How long does it take to drop off a book? Honestly, I ask you to do one thing and you – Merlin's pants!" Hermione shrieked as she appeared in the doorway, and the stack of books she had been carrying tumbled to the floor as she gaped at Ginny.

"Oh, hello, Hermione!" said Ginny brightly. "I wasn't expecting you to drop in today."

"Ginny," said Hermione carefully, "whose baby is that?"

Ginny laughed, and Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, exchanging a look that plainly said, _She's gone mad._ _What should we do?_ "You ought to sit down, the two of you look like you're about to pass out," said Ginny, gesturing to the bed.

"I might," said Ron fervently as he and Hermione settled themselves on the edge of the bed. "Now, what exactly –"

"Ron! RON! Are you alright? Where are you?" shouted yet another voice as footsteps thundered on the stairs. A moment later there was a tremendous crash as Arthur barreled into the room and promptly tripped over Hermione's books, Molly tumbling in after him.

"Mum! Dad!" said Ginny delightedly. "It's been ages, hasn't it?"

"Ron!" Molly gasped as she spotted her son, and she struggled up and dashed across the room to envelop him in a hug. "I was so worried! Your hand on the clock was flitting between 'lost' and 'mortal peril' and I thought something must have happened to you!"

"Yeah, well, that's about right in terms of how I'm feeling right now," came Ron's voice, muffled in his mother's jumper.

"Well, what in heaven's name is – Ginny!" Molly gasped as she caught sight of James, who rather appeared to be enjoying all the fuss. "What on earth –?"

Ginny grinned sheepishly. "It's sort of a long story..."

Arthur sat up, groaning as he rubbed his head. "What are all of these doing here?" he grumbled as he unstuck his face from _A History of House-elf Abuse._

"I brought them," said Hermione. "I thought Ginny might like to read them."

"No one would like to read them," Harry muttered under his breath, and Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Well, actually, I'd love to," said Ginny, and Hermione beamed at her. "The one you lent me last week was absolutely –"

"Can we talk about this later?" said Ron weakly.

"I agree," Molly said. "I, for one, would like to know why on earth you have a baby in your arms."

"WHAT?!" Arthur yelped, leaping up from the floor and sending the books flying again. He let out a strangled sort of gasp as he saw James, before leaning against the wall and mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Like I said, it's a long story," said Ginny, glancing at Harry. Hesitantly, she began to explain. How she had taken the wrong potion, how she and Harry had realised she was pregnant, how she had woken up nearly eight months along, how she had gone into labor, and how she had given birth just that morning. When she had finished, she was met with identical openmouthed stares from each of them.

"You mean to say," said Ron finally, "that _that_ is actually your kid?"

"Well, yeah," said Ginny, looking down at James, who cooed happily. "Mind you, we were as shocked as you are."

"I still am," Harry put in, and Ron shot him a glare.

"Oh, you and I will be having _words_ after this," he said, cracking his knuckles, and Harry gulped.

Ginny sighed. "Honestly, Ronald, we've been married for nearly five years. What did you think we did in bed, sleep?"

Ron blanched. "I really didn't need to hear that," he said, shuddering.

"Oh, please," said Ginny in irritation, "we all know you and Hermione were shacked up ages before you even got married."

"I don't remember ever admitting that," Hermione muttered, and Molly folded her arms and let out a "tcch!" of admonishment.

"In any case," Ginny pressed on, "he's here now and we'll all just have to get used to him."

"I think he's rather enjoying all the attention, to be honest," said Harry, grinning fondly. "Just like my dad. Oh, we haven't told you, have we?" he added suddenly, remembering with a start. "We've picked out a name for him. James Sirius."

Molly's eyes began to well up, and she clamped a hand over her mouth as a rather shrill squeak escaped her. "Ah, no, Mum, don't cry!" said Ginny, thoroughly taken aback.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just – it's just so lovely!" Molly sobbed, accepting Arthur's handkerchief and mopping at her eyes, blowing her nose loudly.

"Mental, more like," said Ron, scoffing. "James Sirius? Have you two gone mad? He'll have a built-in excuse to make mischief! Two, actually, considering Fred and George are his uncles."

Ginny glared at him. "I think it's a sweet name," she said, shifting James in her arms.

"You just wait until he gets to Hogwarts," Ron said. "McGonagall will retire as soon as she reads his name on the scroll!"

"If you keep making fun of his name, we'll choose someone else to be his godparents," said Harry, folding his arms.

"Yeah, you – wait, what?" Ron said, astonished. "Us? Godparents? Me and Hermione?"

"No, you and the giant squid," said Ginny sarcastically, and Ron scowled at her. "Yes, you and Hermione! Who else?"

"Oh, Ginny, I'd love to!" Hermione squealed, clasping her hands together. "I mean," she amended, looking slightly more composed, "I would be honored. And Ron will be too, when he stops being a git."

"Oi!" Ron said indignantly, and Hermione flashed him a charming smile.

"Would you – would you mind if I held him, Ginny?" asked Molly tentatively.

"Of course not," said Ginny. "He's your grandson, after all. No, don't start crying again!" she added in a panicked voice.

"I'm sorry, it's just so unexpected!" Molly sniffled, but she reached out her arms and took the little bundle into her arms. "Oh, little James...He looks just like the two of you. He'll have your eyes, Ginny, I'm sure of it."

"So am I," said Ginny, stroking James's hair. He snuffled slightly and shifted in his blankets.

"Congratulations, Gin," said Arthur, kissing the top of his daughter's head. "You two will be fantastic parents."

"You, know," said Harry with a grin, "prophecies have never really worked out well for me."

Ginny rolled her one good eye at Harry as the others chuckled.

"Just to prepare you," said Molly as she handed James back to Ginny, "I doubt your brothers will be very pleased with this news."

"I'm sure of it," Ron interjected, shooting a sideways glare at Harry.

"So am I," said Ginny, "which is why Harry will be telling the rest of them."

Harry gulped. "Oi, if you want more of these," he said, gesturing to James, "I'll be needing all my parts, which are unlikely to remain on my body if your brothers hear it from me."

"Unfortunately, that's true," sighed Ginny. "Although, that reminds me, I need to find George first."

"Why?" said Arthur.

"Because I need to whup his arse from here to Bulgaria," said Ginny, scowling.

"Language, Ginny," said Molly, with a disapproving frown. "What has he done this time?"

"He replaced my wand with a trick one from his shop." Ginny grumbled. "It's the last time I ever let him near any of my things, you mark my words," she added murderously.

Harry laughed. "Which reminds me, I should find that salve for you," he said, touching Ginny's eye lightly.

"Do I even want to know?" asked Molly, putting her head in her hands.

"Probably not," said Ginny, grinning. "Well, thanks for popping in, but Harry and I have got some serious decisions to make."

"Oh?" said Harry lightly. "Like what?"

She grinned wider. "Like where to put James's nursery, and how we're going to parent him – I'd like to breastfeed for at least the first three months, and then we can start him on solids – oh, and how we'll diaper him, what brands we'll need to try and such –"

"Well," said Harry, standing up hastily, "I'll see you all out!"

As he ushered the others out the door, Ginny called over his shoulder, "And I want a co-sleeper as soon as you get back!"

He chuckled and closed the door behind him.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Hermione softly.

"Yeah, mate, congrats," said Ron, though slightly grudgingly.

He smiled at both of them. "Thanks."

Suddenly, he found himself in the tight embrace of Molly, who had thrown herself into his arms. "I'm a grandmum again!" she squealed.

He looked over her shoulder at Arthur, who just shrugged as if to say, _What can you do?_ He smiled as Molly detached herself from him, mopping at her eyes with Arthur's handkerchief once again. "Thank you all for understanding," he said quietly. "I know it's unexpected..."

"You can say that again," Ron snorted.

"But I think we'll be okay," Harry finished.

"Of course you will," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "I mean, compared to vanquishing the Darkest wizard of our time, parenting should be a cinch."

"Well, I hope for James's sake that's true," said Harry, grinning. "I'll see you all at dinner?"

"That's if the rest of us don't dismember you first," said Ron, thumping Harry on the back good-naturedly. "I've half a mind to let Bill whip out his curse-breaking skills. Not to mention Charlie's got spells that can hold down a dragon – hate to think what they'd do to you, mate – and don't even get me started on George's exploding potions..."

Harry gulped.

* * *

**Thank you for all the feedback on the last "chapter"! I can't tell you all how happy the reviews made me.**

**I may consider making this into a full-length story on how Harry and Ginny deal with newborn James (keyword: _may_.) Let me know if that's something you'd like to see, and I'll change the status of this story to "in-progress" if I think I can handle writing a whole story. I can't guarantee regular uploads if I do write it, though, considering I'm working on about five different projects right now along with juggling schoolwork and _trying _to actually sleep every now and then.**

**Until then, thanks for reading!**


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